


In the Middle Before I Knew I'd Begun

by hazelNuts



Series: Teen Wolf Bingo [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, POV Stiles, Peter is in Eichen House, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Pride and Prejudice Inspired, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski are Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5627752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been an eventful summer and all that's happened has left Stiles reeling a little. All he really needs is an early morning walk to clear his head.</p><p>
  <i>Stiles is perfectly willing to admit that what happened next was a little dramatic, even for them. He’d stormed out of the house, into a summer storm, needing to get away from Derek before he punched him in the face. Derek had come after him, the tenacious bastard, and planted himself between Stiles and the driver’s side of the Jeep.</i>
</p><p>For Teen Wolf Bingo prompt: Sterek</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Middle Before I Knew I'd Begun

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I forgot any tags, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> This was originally for Sterek Week '15: Scene Stealler, but because I excel at procrastinating I didn't finish it until now. It's based of the 2005 Pride & Prejudice movie.

Stiles gives up on sleeping when the sun starts to come up. He’s been tossing and turning all night and that’s not likely to change in the two hours that remain till his alarm goes off. Not that he has any plans for today aside from wallowing in self-pity. He slips out of bed, and out of the house, hoping the cool morning air will clear his mind. It doesn’t work. The past couple weeks have been too weird.

Isaac and Scott had been making eyes at each other all summer and then, when Stiles thought one of them would _finally_ make a move, Derek took Isaac to visit Cora in Arizona. Scott had been bummed, but Stiles had pointed out there were such things as phones and Skype, and that had brought Scott’s smile back. The smile disappeared again when Isaac texted he wouldn’t be coming back.

Derek _had_ come back, though. He’d come back just so he could tell Stiles that it was a bad idea for their packs to mix romantically and that he was the one who had advised Isaac to stay away. He’d said that right before he asked Stiles on a date.

Stiles is perfectly willing to admit that what happened next was a little dramatic, even for them. He’d stormed out of the house, into a summer storm, needing to get away from Derek before he punched him in the face. Derek had come after him, the tenacious bastard, and planted himself between Stiles and the driver’s side of the Jeep. Stiles had started yelling then, trying to make himself heard over the thunder and the cacophony of the rain, as he walked around the car to climb in on the passenger side. When he’d climbed into the driver’s seat and rolled down the window, Derek tried to explain that he was simply looking out for the packs and the territory.

‘And you thought that breaking everybody’s hearts was the best way to do that?,’ Stiles had bit out. ‘I really liked you Derek and if you’d asked me out three weeks ago I would’ve said yes, with all my heart. But that was before you told Isaac to rip out my best friend’s heart.’

Derek had taken a step back from the Jeep, looking pitiful as the rain dripped from his hair, nose and chin, his clothes soaked. He looked like a lost puppy. Stiles’ heart had clenched at the sight and ripped away his gaze to focus on getting his car started, cursing when all it did was sputter and then died.

‘So you-‘ Derek’s voice was barely audible over the drumming of the rain on the Jeep’s roof.

‘I _don’t_ ,’ Stiles had cut him off. ‘And you can be sure as fuck that I won’t ever want to again.’

Derek had taken another step back, guilt and regret written all over his face.

But Stiles hadn’t been able to leave it at that. He wouldn’t be Stiles Stilinski if he had. When he remembers his final words that day, Stiles wishes more than ever that time travel was real so he could shoot himself before he said them.

He’d tried to start the Jeep again and to his relief the engine roared to live. Putting the car into gear, he’d leaned out the window to say, ‘Just run away again and leave us to clean up the messes you leave. It’s what you’re good at.’

He’d gone to Derek’s apartment the next morning to apologize, but Derek was already gone.

They didn’t hear anything from either Isaac or Derek for a while. Isaac was pretty diligent in tweeting and instagraming every second of his life – it was a miracle nobody had realized that not all of his “special effects” were special effects – but nothing new appeared for almost a week.

Then suddenly, they were back. The two werewolves had shown up on Stiles and Scott’s doorstep with apology food and flowers. Well, Isaac had the food and the flowers, Derek just had his grumpiness.

Stiles had still been a little mad at Derek, but he also knew Derek was trying to fix things. He’d wanted to say thank you, apologize for his own shitty behaviour and get things back to normal, but Derek had started to avoid him. Maybe Derek was trying to get over him, maybe he thought that it was what Stiles wanted. Whatever the reason, Stiles wanted it to stop. So Stiles may have resorted to low-key stalking Derek, and he may not have been very subtle about it. He’d popped up pretty much anywhere Derek was, making a general nuisance of himself in the hopes it would get Derek to talk to him. Which is probably how Peter heard about it, despite being locked in a one person cell in Eichen House.

Stiles is pulled out of his musings when he realizes he’s at the park. It’s weird to see it so quiet. During the day there are children with their nannies or parents, or business people eating their lunch if the weather’s nice enough, and at night there are teenagers smoking pot, drinking, pretending to be without the crushing weight of mountains of homework and teenage angst.

He finds a bench so he can sit and watch the sunrise, grimacing when he the dew from the bench soaks the back of his trousers. He probably should’ve changed his pyjama bottoms for something a little sturdier. At least he’d thought to wear a hoodie.

Of all the things that happened in the past few weeks, the talk with Peter had been the strangest. Peter had lost it last night, attacking the nurses, trying to get out, and refusing to calm down until Stiles showed up.

‘I heard you have a thing for my nephew,’ Peter had said. He’d been so calm, sitting on the floor of his cell in front of the Plexiglas. The bruises from where the nurses had gripped him not quite faded because of the wolfsbane tranquilizer they’d given him.

‘None of your business.’ Stiles had remained standing, refusing the chair someone had provided for him. He wouldn’t be staying long anyway.

‘He’s a Hale Alpha. He’s not going to get with someone like you. A human, from another pack.’

‘Then why did you want me here?’

‘To tell you to back off.’

‘You said he would never get with me anyway. So this conversation is pointless.’

‘I know you, Stiles,’ Peter had snarled. He unfolded himself from his seated position and stood up. His eyes flickered electric blue. ‘You’re crafty. You tend to get what you want.’

If Peter thought Stiles always got what he wanted, he was truly delusional, Stiles had thought.

When Stiles didn’t respond, Peter had smiled, sly and triumphant, ‘So you admit you want my nephew?’

‘It’s still none of your fucking business.’

Stiles had turned on his heels and walked out, angry and hurt because Peter was right. He did want Derek, always had, and he’d fucked it up because he didn’t know when to shut up.

In his hurry to leave the hospital, Stiles hadn’t watched where he was going and crashed into someone. He would’ve dropped to the floor if strong hands hadn’t grabbed his arm and kept him on his feet. When he’d looked up at his saviour it was right into Derek’s concerned face.

‘Stiles, are you okay?’ he’d asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

‘You’re uncle’s a dick,’ was all Stiles had said, then pulled himself free of Derek’s grasp and continued storming out of the building.

All night, his conversation with Peter and Derek’s face have kept going through his mind, racing after and tumbling over each other until it wasn’t Peter who’d said Derek didn’t want him, but Derek himself.

Someone sits down next to him on the bench, and Stiles thinks he must’ve been at the park longer then he thought, but when he checks the sun it’s still barely past the horizon.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’ Derek asks him.

Stiles swivels his head so fast to look at him, he feels a little dizzy. Derek looks just as unslept as Stiles feels. He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday at the hospital. They’re a little more rumpled, though, like Derek’s been running for hours. If Stiles had an uncle like Peter, he would need to run off any conversation he had with him too.

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m sorry about Peter.’

‘Not your fault your uncle’s insane,’ he points out. Derek opens his mouth like he wants to contradict him, so Stiles keeps talking, ‘Thanks for what you did for Scott. I mean, I’m drowning in their sickeningly cuteness every day now, but he’s happy.’

‘I messed up. It was my job to fix it,’ Derek shrugs. ‘I was wrong, you know, about it being bad for the packs and the territory. We haven’t been two separate packs in a while. I was just too caught up in all the traditional ideas to see it.’

‘There is nothing traditional about Beacon Hills,’ Stiles snorts.

‘Hey, Stiles?’ Derek’s voice has turned uncertain. ‘Peter told me what you said last night, and I was wondering if… hoping that…’

Stiles blinks up at Derek, heart hammering in his chest, hoping Derek will prove him wrong when he thought Derek was over him. But Derek growls in frustration, not seeming to be able to get the words out.

‘I lied, you know,’ Stiles helps him out. ‘When I said, well, _yelled_ those things at you. You’re not good at running away, you suck at it because you always come back. You always come through for us.’

‘And the other thing?’

Stiles nods. ‘That too. Maybe not at that exact moment, because I was pretty pissed at you, but yeah, it was a lie.’

Stiles doesn’t expect Derek’s happiness to look so soft. His entire body relaxes, the smile on his face is small, which is the equivalent of a grin on any other person’s face, and there’s a sparkle in his eyes that Stiles has rarely seen. When Derek tentatively reaches out his hand to place it against Stiles’ cheek, like he’s still not entirely sure if it’s okay, Stiles eagerly nuzzles into it. He jerks back again almost immediately.

‘Dude, your hand is freezing.’

Derek’s smile turns rueful and pulls his hand back. ‘Sorry. I’ve been out all night.’

Stiles grabs Derek’s hand firmly and entwines their fingers. Pulling Derek off the bench, he ignores the way his damp trousers stick to his ass and legs.

‘I don’t have any plans today. You?’

Derek shakes his head.

‘Great. Because I could really use some shuteye.’

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


End file.
